***
THE LOUISIANA HEAT pressed in from every corner of the earth. I was miserable and at loose ends. Luke and his team left for Baton Rouge Wednesday morning, and he said that they would be working the rest of the week and probably through the weekend on a huge case.
Susie, Rodney, and Lilly had returned to New Orleans after Rodney's testimony on Friday and said that unless they were needed in court, they were not planning to come back to Jean Ville. The day after the verdict, I decided to drive down to be with them. When I walked into the house on Jules Avenue, Susie and Marianne were sitting at the kitchen table, laughing and talking a mile a minute.
"Hey sisters, what's up?" I dropped my overnight bag on the floor, and they jumped up to hug me. Marianne flashed her left hand at me. On her ring finger was a sparkling diamond, about three carats. "When did you get this rock?"
"Last night." She was beaming. "It was a surprise, although we'd talked about getting married one day."
"The last time we talked about your relationship with Warner, you said you weren't sure whether you loved him." I looked from Marianne to Susie and back to Marianne. They were both still laughing.
"I guess I found out somewhere along the way." She hugged me again. "Will you be my maid of honor? Susie said she'd be my matron of honor. And I'm going to ask Lilly to be my bridesmaid."
"I'm honored." I hugged her again, and we all sat at the table.
Susie told us that she and Rodney had decided to leave Jean Ville, "For good. I'm going to put the house up for sale, Sissy. I hope you understand. You can have all the furniture from your apartment moved to the house in Baton Rouge. What you can't use from the house, we'll store here until Rod and I find a permanent home."
"I guess that means I'm leaving Jean Ville, too. I mean, unless I move back in with Dad." I suddenly felt sad again, and burdened, as though there were too many things happening at once.
"Are you okay?" Marianne took my hand and squeezed it.
"Lots going on." I looked at our hands: one white, one brown, and thought that we were not so different. Marianne and I were both in love with great guys, only I hadn't told Luke, yet. Susie loved Rodney, and Lilly loved Bobby. We should all be one, happy family; but there was a cloud that loomed over my head and, as hard as I tried to be happy for them, I was sad. "I'm really happy for you, Mari. So happy." I smiled, but I knew it wasn't my best, Sissy-smile.
"Then what's the sadness about?" Marianne stared at me the way she always did, which made me feel important and equal, even though I was so much younger and a whole lot less experienced.
"Something's wrong. I can't put my finger on it, but I'm sure James is in trouble." I looked down at the table, feeling confused. "And Daddy, I'm not sure what's going on with him. Maybe he's trying to protect James, but I'm afraid for him, too."
"Couldn't happen to a more deserving man," Marianne pushed her chair back from the table and went to the sink to rinse her coffee cup. The abrupt change in her demeanor caught me off-guard, and I let out a gasp, almost a choke.
"Sissy, are you okay?" Susie moved her chair closer to me and put her arm over my shoulder.
"I understand why you and Marianne don't like Daddy, but if something happens to him, it will be hard for me. I mean, I love my Daddy; you know how close we are." I stared at Susie for a second.
"I'm sorry, Sissy," Marianne was leaning against the counter across the room. "I don't mean to be insensitive."
"I'm sorry, too, Mari." I looked at her over Susie's shoulder. "I'm sorry he wasn't a Dad to you. I'm sorry he was an awful Dad to you, Susie." I looked at Susie and tried to grin. "But it was different for me. I was always Daddy's little girl. He made me feel loved, safe, protected."
The room was as silent as a church during Communion. I could hear the drip-drip of the faucet in the sink and my breaths coming out in short, jagged spurts of air.
Then I told my sisters that I'd thought I was in love with Luke. "But I don't feel like anyone could love me after what happened." I paused and looked down at my hands in my lap. "And I'm not sure I can really love anyone, either."
"You need to get some counseling, Sissy." Susie squeezed my shoulder.
"I know. I'm going to find a counselor in Baton Rouge, now that the trial is over."
"Sissy, don't let what happened to you stop you from living, the way it did me." Marianne looked me in the eye. "I lost twenty years of my life to harboring hatred for the guys who attacked me. I didn't know how to grieve and get past it. That incident was so life-changing that I quantified my life in terms of before the rape and after the rape. I thought that if I could go back to before, maybe I could be happy again. Don't do that to yourself. You can't undo what happened, you can't go back.”
Marianne took a deep breath and walked over to the table. She put her hands on my shoulders. "Move forward. Your life will be different, but it doesn't have to be bad. Don't suffer for something you had no choice in." Mari had tears in her eyes.
I stared at her and thought about her words. "I know you're right, Mari. Maybe counseling will help." I thought about how, since my assault, I had been unable to even kiss Luke, and had still not told him how I felt about him. In fact, I didn't feel anything, except when I thought I might lose him. Then I panicked. That was as close as I could come to feeling love.
"What you said about James and Daddy being in some kind of trouble. What did you mean?" Susie's voice cut through the silence and brought me back to the present.
"I'm not sure. Why didn't they want anyone to know that Thevenot and Rousseau shot Rodney?"
"Why do you think that?" Susie looked confused.
"Just a feekung, It's baffling." I folded my arms on the table and put my forehead on top.
"I could probably guess why." Susie rubbed my back. "Daddy probably put those two no-accounts up to shooting Rodney and me."
I sat up with a jerk. "Daddy? He'd never hurt you."
"Oh, no?" Susie took her hand away from me and scooted back in her chair. "Have you forgotten how often he beat me when I was growing up. Have you forgotten that he tried to have Rodney killed ten years ago?"
"I guess I'm slow, or ADD, but I just can't wrap my brain around the Daddy I know doing anything violent." I felt my mind retreating from the kitchen to my happy place: a beach with waves rolling in, sunshine all around, the smell of suntan oil and salt hanging in the air. I could hear Susie and Marianne talking, but even though they were right next to me, their voices sounded like far away murmurs.
*
On Thursday and Friday, I went with Susie, Rodney, and Lilly to look at houses in New Orleans. Their realtor showed them several beauties, and on Friday they decided on a two-story stone house in Audubon Place, an exclusive, gated, neighborhood off St. Charles Avenue, near Tulane and Loyola Universities. Marianne and Dr. Warner were at the house on Jules Avenue for dinner that evening, and we kept things light and festive, celebrating their engagement and teasing them about how they looked at each other with goo-goo eyes. They said they were going to live in Warner's house for about a year, then they might try to find a home near Susie and Rodney's new place.
That night, Lilly and I stayed up and talked for a long time, facing each other in the twin beds in her room. I told her I was going to Baton Rouge for the weekend and asked if she'd like to come with me so she could see Bobby.
"I think Bobby has a new girlfriend." She didn't sound like it was the end of the world for her.
"What makes you think that?"
"He's been 'busy' the past few weekends, and he hardly calls me anymore." She turned on her back, put her hands behind her head, and stared at the ceiling.
"How does that make you feel?"
"Sad, I guess, but I'll get over him. It's been a hard year. I'm just glad to have Susie and Dad back." She was quiet for a while, then said, "I'm going to transfer to Tulane in the fall so I can live at home with them. I want to focus on making good grades and get into medical school in three years."
I went to sit on the side of her bed. "I thought you two were in love." I rubbed her arm and patted her cheek.
"We don't know what love is. I'm not ready for sex, and Bobby is. I think he equates love with sex; I don't agree." She seemed resigned and unaffected by the breakup, but I knew there would be a huge hole in her life where Bobby had existed, and she would be lonely until she filled that hole with other relationships. We talked into the early morning hours, then I got back in my bed, eyes wide opened.
The next morning, I told Susie I needed to be in Jean Ville in case something happened to James and Daddy.
"Sissy, let whatever is going to happen, happen. Don't get involved. I don't want to see you hurt."
"I need to take care of the furniture at the house and apartment on Gravier Road and get a realtor to list it for you. I'll be too busy to obsess about it."
*
I got to Baton Rouge late Saturday morning and called Luke. He didn't answer at his house, so I called the AG's office and dialed 3-2-3. He answered and said he'd be working all weekend, but he wanted me to come by his office that afternoon.
I pushed the beige button on the wall next to the entrance door of the AG's building at about four o'clock, and Luke came right away. He took my hand and led me to a small conference room.
"A bunch of guys are in my office." He kissed me and smiled. "I don't want to share you. What are you doing in Baton Rouge today?"
"I just wanted to see you, even if it's for a minute. If you're too busy to see me tonight, I think I'll go on to Jean Ville."
"That's not a good idea. You should have stayed in New Orleans." He pulled out a chair for me, and I sat in it.
"I have things to do. Susie wants to put the house on Gravier up for sale. I need to get a listing agent and arrange to have furniture moved to my house on Lee Circle and to Susie's in New Orleans.
"So are you going to move away from Jean Ville permanently?"
"Yes. I'm leaving Jean Ville. Everyone's leaving Jean Ville: Susie, Rodney, Marianne, Lilly." I looked up at him. He sat on the edge of the table in front of me. I thought about James, that maybe he'd be going off to jail. "There might be others leaving Jean Ville, too."
"I'm sorry, Sissy."
"I'm not. It's time for me to move on, cut ties, grow up." I told him I was going to live in Baton Rouge, even though Lilly would be staying in New Orleans. "I need to be on my own, not depend on Susie and Rodney to replace my parents. "I'm going to get a counselor, and I'm going back to school. That's another reason why I'm in Baton Rouge to register for the fall semester at LSU."
"This makes me happy. I'll have you close."
"Do you want me near you?"
"How can you ask me that? You know how I feel." He took both my hands and bent to kiss me.
"I don't know when, or if, I'll be able to give you what you need from me."
"I have lots of time. I'm a patient man, and you are worth waiting for." He pulled me to my feet and wrapped his long arms around me. It was like being bound up by an octopus, but it made me feel warm and safe.
We had dinner at my house that night, and Luke stayed over in the guest room. He worked Sunday and came back to be my bodyguard again that night. I registered at LSU on Monday, declaring myself a music major. Luke gave me a list of counselors that the state employees used, and I called to make an appointment with a lady named Rebecca Flynn for the following week. I felt I was gaining a little control of my life.
*
When I got to my garage apartment in Jean Ville, I felt panicky, like the walls had ears, and even my exhales bounced off them and settled above me like a cloud. I knew I couldn't stay there alone. In fact, I didn't think I could ever stay in that apartment alone again.
I packed an overnight bag and went to see Tootsie in the Quarters. She told me I could stay in Marianne's cabin, which was still empty because Tootsie continued to believe that Marianne would come home once Susie didn't need her anymore. Little did she know that Donato Warner had a much tighter hold on Marianne than did Susie.
I settled into the little cabin and went to sit with Tootsie on her porch next door. She didn't ask questions, and I didn't offer an explanation, but she told me I could stay all week if I wanted to.
I went home Wednesday morning to wash my clothes and pack some extra things since I planned to stay in the Quarters all week. If nothing happened by the end of the day Friday, I would drive to Baton Rouge for the weekend, where I could relax and, hopefully, spend time with Luke.
I threw my keys on the kitchen counter and noticed the red light blinking on the answering machine I had purchased in March. People rarely left messages because home answering machines were a rarity in Jean Ville. They didn't become affordable until recently with the restructuring of AT&T, so they were not widely used, and most people were afraid to talk to a machine. I found it funny that Jean Ville was so slow to catch on with the rest of the world. Another reason to leave.
I pressed the 'Play' button, and Dr. David Switzer's booming voice came through the speaker.
"Sissy, this is Doctor David." He paused and said, 'uhm' a few times. "Look, give me a call. I'd like for you to come over to the hospital to have lunch with me today, if you can." He hung up, and I tried to figure out when he'd called. My machine didn't have the feature that told the day and time, and he didn't say.
After Dr. David's message, there was one from Luke: "Sissy, I don't know where you are. I'm worried. Please call me." He breathed into the receiver for a long time as though he hoped I'd pick up. I guess I should have told him I would be staying in the Quarters.
I called Luke back right away. When the robot answered, I dialed 3-2-3, and he picked up.
"It's me. Sorry I worried you."
"Where have you been?" He sounded out of breath.
"I'm staying in the Quarters with Tootsie this week. I didn't want to be alone in my apartment."
"Why don't you come back to Baton Rouge?"
"When?"
"Well, can you leave soon? I think Robert wants to meet with you."
"Robert wants to see me?" I felt disappointed that Luke didn't want me with him.
"Well, I do, too."
"I'll come tomorrow, okay? I need to wash some clothes and tie up some loose ends." I started to click off in my head the things I needed to do: Call Dr. David, wash clothes, clean apartment, put stickers on the furniture that would be delivered to Baton Rouge, call the realtor to tell her I'd be gone for a few days. The list was long, and I had to dis-attach myself from it so I could concentrate on what Luke was saying.
"Tomorrow will be fine. Come to the AG's office, okay. Maybe about four o'clock?"
"Sure. Okay." I took a breath. "Luke?"
"Yes."
"This sounds official." I felt my cheeks getting red. "Is there something you need to tell me, so I'll be prepared."
"Not really." He paused, and I heard him swallow. "You want to have dinner with me tomorrow night?"
"Sure. But, Luke?" I thought about that empty house in Baton Rouge because Lilly, Susie, and everyone else was in New Orleans. "I'll need a bodyguard if I'm going to stay in that house alone."
"I think I know someone who will volunteer. See you tomorrow." When he hung up, I had a feeling of dread, but I wasn't sure why. Was he going to break up with me? Again?
I put a load of clothes in the washer and took a long shower. Once I was dressed, and the clothes were in the dryer, I remembered I needed to return Dr. David's call.
"Dr. Switzer's office," It was Miss Mamie, Dr. David's long-time receptionist, secretary, Girl Friday and, sometimes, nurse.
"Hi, Miss Mamie." I tried to sound chipper and upbeat. "It's Sissy Burton. I think Dr. Switzer has been trying to reach me."
"Oh, yes, Sissy, he's had me call your phone number every hour since Monday afternoon. He even had me call your dad to see if he knew where you were." She took a breath that sounded like relief. "I'll get him. You hold on, now."
"Sissy!" Dr. David's voice came barreling through my receiver, and I had to hold it away from my ear. "There you are. I've been looking for you."
"Hi, Dr. David. Sorry, I haven't been staying at my apartment. I don't like being here alone at night… ever since… well, you know." I hoped I still sounded upbeat.
"Yes, well, I'm sorry about that. You should feel safe in your own place." He took a breath and started to say something, thought better of it, then started again. "Listen. Can you come over to the hospital and we'll have lunch. Free sandwiches and sodas, you know." He laughed at himself.
"Sure. I can come. What time?"
"How about now? Let's say we meet in the doctors’ lounge in about fifteen minutes. You remember where it is?"
"Yes, sir. I'm almost on my way." I couldn't remember Dr. David ever calling me, much less looking for me for a couple of days. I checked on my clothes, but they weren't dry, so I left them tumbling, grabbed my purse and car keys, and drove downtown to Jean Ville Hospital.
It was only about a five or six-minute drive, but by the time I parked, used the memorized code—4863—to enter through the back door and made my way to the doctors' lounge, I was a few minutes late. Dr. Switzer was sitting at the table we'd shared a year before, eating a sandwich and chugging a Coca Cola. I put my purse and keys on the table, kissed him on the cheek, and helped myself to half of a turkey sandwich and a Sprite.
We ate in silence for a few minutes, and when he finished his last sandwich, he wiped his mouth and put his hands on the table.
"I'm thinking we should walk over to Judge DeYoung's office." He looked over my head as though watching someone out the window behind me, and I wondered if he was trying to act casual for some reason.
"Now?" I swallowed the bite I'd just chewed and drank some Sprite to wash it down.
"Well, when you've finished eating." He got up and put his paper plate and soda cans in the trash and came back to the table. He stood behind his chair, impatient for me to finish so we could get going. I got up, dumped the rest of my lunch in the trash, grabbed my purse, and followed him out of the front door of the hospital. We retraced our steps from the previous summer, and I raced to keep up with him, again, dragging my purse behind me and counting the thirty-one cracks in the sidewalk before we turned toward the courthouse, then another twenty-two cracks to the concrete steps—ten, then a landing, then another ten.
He took the stairs two and a time, and I struggled to get my short legs to take the twenty outside steps and twenty inside stairs one at a time without putting both feet on each one. When we got to the judge's chambers, I was out of breath. Dr. David had already buzzed us in and was holding the door open for me. Judge DeYoung stood in the doorway to his inner office and his secretary, Lydia, was typing on her typewriter with earphones in her ears. She nodded at us, and the judge ushered us into his office and closed the door. It must have been soundproofed because I couldn't hear Lydia's typewriter once the door was closed.
"I'm glad you could come." The judge pointed to the two chairs in front of his desk. "Have a seat."
"Ed, I'm just going to sit here and listen while you tell Sissy what's going on." Dr. David turned his attention from the judge to me. "I'm here for you, Sissy. Consider me family… if you need me. Well, you know what I mean."
I was confused as to why I was there, but I sat on the edge of my seat and listened to Judge DeYoung. He spoke directly to me, almost in a fatherly tone, with his eyes fixed on mine. I was afraid to blink, much less look away.
"Sissy, I had to sign a warrant yesterday—to arrest someone close to you." He looked at Dr. Switzer and back at me. I had the distinct feeling that Dr. David nodded at the judge to continue, but I didn't shift my eyes and DeYoung immediately reestablished the magnetic field between our lines of vision.
"In order for me to sign a warrant, police officers, in this case, state investigators with the CID and a number of state troopers, have to present evidence to me that is compelling. In fact, I have to be very convinced a person has committed a crime worth being arrested for, before I sign a warrant. Once I sign a warrant, the person is asked to turn himself in at the parish jail, or the commander dispatches a police unit to find him and bring him in."
He paused and asked whether I understood, and I nodded.
"What does this have to do with me?" I could hear the fear in my voice, and I tightened my clench on the arms of the chair.
"Well, you are here as a courtesy, really. I think the world of you. This is going to hit you hard; that's why I wanted Dr. David here."
"Is it James?" I felt my eyes grow in size as though I'd seen a diving airplane and knew immediately I shouldn't have blurted James's name.
"Why would you think that?"
I looked at Dr. Switzer, and he shrugged his shoulders as if to ask, "Well, why would you think James might be arrested?"
"I'm not sure, just a feeling." I felt the rash start on my chest, and the familiar heat began to crawl up my neck.
"Yes, it's James." His glare was fatherly and sympathetic and confirmed my worse suspicions.
"What did he do?"
"James paid Tucker Thevenot and Keith Rousseau to kill Rodney and Susie." He put his chin down and slumped his shoulders but didn't take his eyes off me. I felt Dr. David's hand pat mine on the armrest.
"So, they were really going to kill Susie, too? Not just Rodney?" I thought about the posters with the bullet trajectories that showed the shooter aimed for both Susie and Rodney's heads, but I didn't want to believe that piece of evidence, so I let the information go in one ear and out the other.
"Yes. I'm sorry. The attorney general's office worked out a plea bargain with Rousseau, and he exposed the whole thing. Once he sang, Thevenot backed up his story."
"I figured the Klan was behind the shooting." My words evaporated into the air, unanswered, maybe unheard.
For a while, I watched the judge's mouth move but didn't hear anything he said. I sort of spaced out, something I had trained myself to do as a child—I would go to my happy place to avoid hearing the screaming when Daddy beat Susie, or James, or Mama. Only this time, when I blocked out everything, I couldn't find the beach and sunshine in my head.
When my hearing returned, Dr. David was kneeling beside my chair, taking my pulse. I felt a cold chill run up my spine, and I shuddered. I looked from Dr. David to Judge DeYoung.
"She's okay, Ed." Dr. David removed his hands from my wrist. "Sissy, you need to be brave and mature. The judge has more to tell you, and I can't have you fainting or going into trances. You did that when you were a little girl, but you are a grown woman, and you need to step up and be strong."
"There's more? More than my brother paying to have my sister killed?" I heard my voice rise two octaves like I was singing soprano in the choir. I tried to calm myself.
"Yes, the second case is your case—the beating and double rape." DeYoung glanced at Dr. David, who was still kneeling beside my chair. "It's been solved."
"Really?" I wasn't expecting what came next.
"You were correct. It was Warren Morrow and Joey LeBlanc. We have DNA proof." Judge DeYoung spoke slowly and leaned forward on his desk with his hands folded in a praying position. "Their goal was to scare you away from the case and warn you to keep quiet."
"Oh, my, God!" all I could think of was Joey LeBlanc's penis inside me, and I wanted to vomit. I stood up and asked for the bathroom. The judge pointed to his left, my right, at a door I'd never noticed, his own private john. I went in and stared at myself for a few minutes and thought about how to gain control, to act mature. I didn't need to fall apart now. At least not here, not in the judge's office.
I opened the door to Judge DeYoung's office, and the two men were talking quietly. They stopped when they saw me, and both watched me walk to the chair and sit down.
"Okay, I'm sorry." I smoothed out my skirt and crossed my legs. "Please, Judge. Is there anything else?"
"Yes. What I was about to tell you is that Morrow and LeBlanc were paid to scare you,"
"Was that James, too?"
"Yes, he paid Thevenot and Rousseau, and they passed the job on."
*
I ran out of the Courthouse without saying goodbye to Dr. Switzer or Judge DeYoung. I pulled into James's driveway and parked behind a state trooper's unit. I jumped from my car before it was fully stopped. I ran up the steps and through the front door screaming, "James! James!" I could see through the back door where two state troopers were speaking with James. I barreled through the door still hollering, "James!" He was standing at the top of his back steps, as though about to run. His eyes met mine and a sadness passed between us.
"Why? James? Why would you do what you did to me? You paid those creeps to rape me!"
"That was never supposed to happen." He smashed the empty beer can he was holding, threw it in the trashcan, and stared at me. The two troopers took a few steps back and watched us.
"What was supposed to happen, James?" My voice sounded high-pitched and strange, even to my own ears. "They almost killed me, and those filthy, nasty guys rammed their penises inside of me. I'm your sister, for God's sake."
"Look, Sissy." He looked so sad; there were tears under his bottom lids, making his eyes blurry. "They went overboard. They were supposed to slap you around and warn you to leave the case alone. They were never supposed to blindfold you, beat, or rape you."
"Well, maybe you didn't make it clear. And what about Susie? You paid to have her murdered."
"No, that was not my intention, either." He sat down in one of the rockers, bent forward with his elbows on his knees and put his face in his hands. "All I did was deliver the money. I said, 'shoot Rodney.' I never said to shoot Susie. I told them to scare you, not to hurt you."
"So what do you think happened? Why did things get so out of whack?"
"Either they took it upon themselves to go to the extreme, or someone gave them alternative instructions."
"Why would you agree to be involved in something so horrible against your own sisters?" I stood in front of him with my hands on my hips.
"I thought it was what Dad wanted." His look was pleading.
"Daddy?"
"You don't know what I've been through with Dad, how he beat me until I left for college, then he berated me every time I came home. He's never let me forget that he paid for me to go to law school and that I owe him." James took a deep breath and sat back in his rocker as though something had just occurred to him for the first time. "I think I was willing to do anything I could to get his approval, to make him proud of me."
"You mean to make him love you, right?"
"Probably." He looked at me as though it was the first time he'd ever seen me. "Yes, you're probably right. And look where it got me."
"Can we agree to hate him?"
"I don't know, Sissy. I've always thought of him as the smartest, most successful, most educated man in the world. I've looked up to him, spent thirty-seven years trying to be just like him."
"I'm happy to say that you've failed miserably, James." I tried to let my anger wash away. I'd gone to James's house to beat him up emotionally for what he'd done, but now I actually felt sorry for him. "You'll never be like him. Thank God."
*
I drove to Baton Rouge after lunch the next day and went directly to the AG's office. Miss Millie actually seemed happy to see me and immediately called Robert to tell him I was in the reception area. He and Luke both came into the waiting room before I could open a magazine.
"Sissy!" Robert's big, hoarse voice was pitched an octave higher than usual. He hugged me, and Luke held the door open to the hallway. I followed Robert through the door and walked in front of Luke. He patted me on the back as I went by.
When we went by the opened door to Luke’s office, I glanced in and saw the sketch of me that the Jackson Square street artist had done the night we went to the French Quarters for dinner. I stopped dead in my tracks and looked at Luke, who followed my stare to the framed rendering hanging on the wall over his desk. A chill went through me as though I’d seen a ghost, but Luke’s smile reassured me that the presence of that artwork was a sign of his love for me.
When we got to Robert’s office, we exchanged niceties about Brenda, Jessica, Bobby, Lilly, Susie, et al. Then the room got very quiet.
"Have a seat." Robert loosened his tie and sat at the round table. I sat across from him, and Luke sat between us. "I have some news that will be pretty unpleasant for you."
"Is it something I don't know about? I mean, I thought finding out that James was involved in… well, you know." I took a deep breath and listened to my voice trail off into the abyss.
"Let's see. How can I explain this all to you?" Robert unbuttoned the top two buttons on his shirt and took a deep breath.
"It's about James, right?"
"Yes, and others." He tried to smile at me and looked at Luke as though he wanted to be bailed out of something.
"I know about James. He was arrested yesterday." Suddenly I felt a layer of dread, like wet fleece, cover my brain, and my heart began to beat so hard I thought it would come blowing out of my chest.
I told Robert I'd had hints all along but didn't put them together until Judge DeYoung told me that James had paid those goons to shut me up. I told him about seeing Thevenot and Rousseau at James's house, about Warren pulling in and out of my driveway several times, about seeing my Dad and James together and having a feeling they were hiding something from me.
I pulled the note out of my purse that had been on my windshield. I handed it to Robert.
"When did you get this?" He read the note and looked at me with alarm. "Stay out of this investigation or you'll end up like your sister!”
"Just after you went to Jean Ville and met with my Dad, James, Borders, DeYoung, and the others." I took a long slug of water.
Robert showed Luke the note.
"Why didn't you tell me about this? Where did you find it?" Luke was breathless and grabbed my hand, a little too tightly.
"It was on my windshield at the Capitol House Hotel."
"Who knew you were staying there?"
"My Dad knew because I charged the room to his credit card. I hadn't met you at that time, so I knew it wasn't you."
Luke and Robert exchanged looks that said they knew something I didn't know. I let it slip past me because I already had too much on my mind.
"I'll send the note to the crime lab to have the handwriting analyzed," Robert said.
"I don't think that's necessary. I know who wrote it." I took a deep breath. "I know his handwriting."
"Who?"
"James." I exhaled and realized I'd been holding my breath, trying to decide whether to rat James out.
"Oh, Sissy, I'm sorry." Robert stared at me, unblinking. The air in the room felt stale, like it was just sitting still, not circulating. We were silent for a long time, my mind wandering to the night I was raped. I had cold chills on my neck and felt the redness climb up to my cheeks.
"What others?" I sat on the edge of my seat as Robert began to speak to me, almost in a fatherly tone, with his eyes fixed on mine. I was afraid to blink or look away. "You said there were others, not just James."
"Sissy, we've wrapped up an investigation on corruption, assault, and a number of crimes against some folks in Toussaint Parish. Some of these people, well, you are fond of." He looked at Luke and back at me. I had the distinct feeling that Luke nodded at Robert to continue, but I didn't shift my eyes from Robert.
"James wouldn't have anything to do with corruption or criminal activity." I felt my eyes grow in size and knew immediately I shouldn't have said what I did. "James was the bagman for someone. What else did he do?"
His glare was fatherly and sympathetic and confirmed my worse suspicions.
"There are three cases. A number of the men are involved in all three, James was involved in two."
"I'm lost. What two or three cases. How many men?" My cheeks were red now, and I felt flushed all over.
"Seven men, including James. The others will be arrested for various levels of participation. Maybe I should tell you that one of the cases has to do with the shooting."
"Of Rodney?"
"Yes. James paid Tucker Thevenot and Keith Rousseau to kill Rodney and Susie."
"I know. I figured the Klan was behind the shooting, that they gave James the money to pass on."
I felt Luke's hand pat mine on the armrest. I went into a trance. All the air was sucked out of the room, and there was no sound: no one breathed, the fan didn't whirl, the air conditioning didn't hiss, horns didn't blow outside the window. It was as though all those soft noises stopped, as though life itself stopped. Robert's lips were moving, but I didn't hear a sound. Nothing. Nada.
Luke removed his hand from my arm. "Sissy, are you listening? Do you want to hear this in slow dribbles or should we tell you everything at once? Like pulling a Band-Aid off in one swipe?"
"There's more? More than my brother paying to have my sister killed and me beaten up to within an inch of my life?" I heard my voice rise and I tried to calm myself.
"It's about who hired James to pay people to commit crimes. And it's about a network of political corruption in Toussaint Parish that kept people like Thevenot and Rousseau from being arrested for horrible crimes, for decades." Robert searched my face to make sure I was listening and had not zoned out, so I nodded as though I followed him just fine.
I took a deep breath and thought about that: why Mr. Borders closed the case, why all the things Thevenot and Rousseau did to black people were never prosecuted.
"The CID has been investigating complaints of corrupt politicians in the parish for the past year, powerful men who have been covering up crimes against black people for years." Robert spoke slowly and looked directly in my eyes. "Crimes like the ones you heard about in court last week. For instance, when Thevenot and Rousseau chased black folks, lassoed them, pulled them behind that truck, brutalized young girls, shot people in the leg, burned down black people's houses—and there were lots of other crimes you didn't hear about, not only by Thevenot and Rousseau, but others, too.
"The evidence states that city or parish cops would show up at the scene of a crime, but the mayor, chief of police, sheriff, fire chief, and DA swept things under the rug. In most of the cases, no police reports were written, and in the few cases where they were, there was no investigation, and the cases were closed.
"That's what was supposed to happen with the shooting on June 30 of last year. Do you recall that there was no police report? And once the mayor was forced by the judge to produced one, the DA said he did an investigation and closed the case? That's how things have been handled for years, even before Sheriff Desiré was elected, who, by the way, I believe started out a good, honest man, but Sheriff Guidry had set things up, and Desiré had no choice but to go along with the system, or quit—in which case Guidry would step back in." Robert scratched the back of his neck and leaned back in his chair.
"Judge DeYoung signed warrants this morning to arrest six more men who have been behind a number of crimes in the parish for almost thirty years, including the shooting and your assault."
"It wasn't just James?"
"No, Sissy. This is much bigger than James."
"So are you going to arrest Mr. Borders for not prosecuting cases?"
"Yes, Borders is being arrested. And Red Wallace. And Pierre Desiré. And Winn Marchand. And Gerald Brazille."
I counted arrests in my head: Borders the DA, Wallace the mayor, Desiré the sheriff, Marchand the chief of police, Brazille the fire chief. That was five. Did Robert say six? I looked at Luke, who looked away as soon as our eyes met. I reached out and squeezed his hand, and he glanced at me, a sad, sad look on his face.
"Okay." I sat up straight in my chair, squared my shoulders, and looked at Robert. "I can count. There's one more. Who?"
"The ring leader of all three crimes: the shooting, your beating, and the political cover-up. The person who spearheaded the criminal activity and political corruption in the parish since the 1960s. The Grand Wizard of the Klan in Toussaint Parish." Robert looked at his watch, and I glanced at the clock on the wall behind his desk: 5:30 PM.
There was a bus-stop sort of pause, and everything I'd been hiding from myself, everything I'd denied, all the things I refused to hear from Susie or Marianne, or Tootsie or Luke, or anyone; all of those ideas, conversations, intuitions flooded into my brain.
"My Dad!" It wasn't a question. It was a statement of knowledge. I sat back in my chair and heard a whoosh, like water rushing over a dam. Neither Robert nor Luke confirmed my statement, and I didn't expect them to. We all sat back in our chairs and breathed sighs, and the air that had been sucked out of the room began to return, and the tick-tock of the clock started back up, and the wind whirled from the ceiling fan and rushed out of the air conditioning vents, and I heard air brakes on a diesel bus outside on Third Street.
Life started to flow again. The world moved. People went about their business. And although I'd just heard news that no one should ever hear, I knew that I, too, would learn to move forward and go about my business; that my life would flow again.
I looked at Luke and smiled. He squeezed my hand, and I felt I was already taking a step into the future. I didn’t have to go into a trance to feel sunshine on my face and hear the waves of the Gulf of Mexico rolling towards the hot sand. I was in my happy place.
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